


Metamorphosis

by talesofsymphoniac



Category: The Death Gate Cycle - Margaret Weis & Tracy Hickman
Genre: Altered Mental States, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, During Canon, Flirting, I won't say it's trash but I won't say it's not trash either, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Romance, Sick Character, Sickfic, Suggestive Themes, interesting set of tags we have here huh, very briefly and due to the previously mentioned altered mental states
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-06
Updated: 2019-09-06
Packaged: 2020-10-11 00:50:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20537453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/talesofsymphoniac/pseuds/talesofsymphoniac
Summary: After Alfred and Haplo fight off the dragon-snakes at the end of Serpent Mage, Haplo develops a very strange fever indeed.





	Metamorphosis

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm gonna be upfront with the fact that this scenario is an extremely indulgent one based on the running joke of Haplo and Zuko being very similar characters, and wondering what would happen if Haplo had an Angst Coma like the one Zuko has at the end of season 2. Plus shippiness, because I can.
> 
> So yeah, we're getting ~canon divergent~ up in here.

Surunan was crawling with activity like it hadn’t been in a thousand years. There were mensch trying to move in, dragon-snakes threatening to flood the city, and a broken world that had all but forgotten its creators. And then, there was the matter of the prisoners: one, the ancient enemy, and the other a traitor to his own kind.

In an otherwise ordinary spare bedroom within the city, the ancient enemy stirred, and the traitor leaned over him.

“Haplo! Are you alright?”

Haplo let out a strangled sound that was very clearly not alright.

“Oh, dear. Let me try to heal you again.”

The Patryn was not in much of a position to refuse him. Frankly, he was not in much of a position to accept him, either. He was drained. Without his magic, and exhausted both physically and mentally, Haplo was unable do anything as Alfred took his hands.

“There don’t seem to be any physical injuries, at least,” he mused, resting a hand over Haplo’s sweaty forehead. He frowned. “But you do have a very high fever. I’ll try to get you some more water.”

He stood, and Haplo used his remaining dregs of bodily control to force out a noise. “Gr…”

“Just rest.”

“Grundle,” Haplo forced himself to finish. He tried to say something more, but it seemed he had reached the end of his limits.

Alfred shushed him, guiding him to lay back down. “Your mensch friends are safe,” he assured Haplo. “My friend is taking care of them. She’ll see that they get back to their parents. You don’t have to worry about them.”

Haplo couldn’t have said anything even if he’d wanted to. This time, when Alfred stood, he said nothing, but slipped back into unconsciousness.

* * *

The next time Haplo surfaced, Alfred was dutifully cooling his forehead with a damp rag.

“How long has it been?” Haplo tried to say. It came out as more of a feeble moan.

“Oh, hello there,” Alfred said, sounding pleasantly surprised. “You’ve been sleeping for a few hours, now. You should drink something.” He leaned over to the bedside table, where a pitcher of water and a cup rested. “Here, you can sip this,” he said, beginning to pour the water into the cup.

His plans were foiled when Haplo’s arm flailed outward, knocking the cup from Alfred’s hand and snatching the pitcher. In his desperation to drink, he tipped the pitcher directly into his mouth, spilling half the water down himself before tossing the pitcher aside and collapsing back into the bed. 

“Oh,” he heard Alfred say distantly. “I’ll get some more, shall I?”

The sound of a Sartan song, and then a hand cradled Haplo’s head, lifting him up to pour more water into his mouth, which Haplo drank greedily. When it was done, he fell back to the bed.

“What’s happening to me?” he groaned, half-deliriously.

“I’m not sure,” Alfred said. “I have a theory, but-- well. It’s only a theory.” He had felt the turmoil inside Haplo when he had joined the circle of their beings to heal him. So much stress he had weighing him down, and so much confusion. “You've been through a lot, lately," he said vaguely. "I think your very mind is at war with itself.”

“What does that mean?”

Alfred glanced at the dog, curled up against his master, blinking up at him with dark brown eyes full of concern. “I think that’s up to you to decide,” he said. Seeing Haplo’s wordless consternation, he added: “Well, don’t mind me. Just rest, for now.”

So Haplo did. 

He slipped into unconsciousness, a blur of sights and sounds that he could hardly remember. Visions of Chelestra flowed into those of the Labyrinth and the Nexus, and back again. Voices called out to him: a demanding male voice, a much softer tenor, followed by a woman’s low murmurings, and a few more childish voices, each drawing Haplo to them in their own ways, though he didn’t know what any of them were saying, or even if they were saying anything at all.

* * *

The next time he noticed Haplo stir, Alfred put a hand over his damp forehead, relieved to note it had cooled.

Haplo groaned, and slowly his eyes cracked open.

“Your fever’s gone down,” Alfred told him, pulling his hand away before Haplo could snap at him. “Are you feeling any better?”

Haplo shifted a bit more, his eyes opening fully. To Alfred’s surprise, he then pushed himself up into a seated position without much difficulty. _ Well, _ he thought dimly, _ I suppose that answers that. _

And then Haplo _ smiled. _Genuine, without a trace of derision. “Yeah,” he said. “Thanks, Alfred.”

Alfred, who had been diverted by scooting his chair a more appropriate distance from Haplo’s bedside, nearly knocked himself to the ground. “You’re welcome,” he said with a sputter.

“How long has it been?” Haplo asked, apparently unaware that anything odd had happened.

“A few days,” Alfred responded automatically. “This is the third day we’ve been here, I think. Orla visited yesterday. She told me your friends-- the children-- were taken back to their parents.”

He half-expected Haplo to deny that they were his friends at all, but Haplo surprised him again, nodding seriously. “Grundle and Devon. They’re safe?”

“Orla said so,” Alfred confirmed, a little discombobulated. “Though…”

“What about Samah?” Haplo asked immediately.

Alfred grimaced. “Orla’s trying to dissuade him from warring with the mensch, but…” he shrugged helplessly.

Haplo let out a deep breath. “Right.” For the first time, he took a proper look around the room that was serving as their holding cell. The only thing differentiating it from any normal spare bedroom were the Sartan runes around the doors and windows. “I’m assuming there’s no way out of here.”

“They’ve been bathing you in seawater,” Alfred replied, gesturing to Haplo’s arms, which were indeed clear of his usual tattoos. 

Haplo followed the movement, frowning at their absence, unsettled. Then he looked over at Alfred again, appraising. “Not you?”

Alfred smiled awkwardly. “I’m meant to be awaiting the Council’s judgement, here. And someone needed to look after you, so…”

“You haven’t escaped,” Haplo said, his expression shifting into something Alfred couldn’t quite place. His eyes had softened, his lips turned up slightly. 

“Where would I have escaped to?” Alfred shifted uncomfortably in his seat at the look Haplo was still giving him. “Anyway…” He looked down at his hands. _ I couldn’t have just left you, _he didn’t finish.

“Thanks again,” he said, and when Alfred looked back up, he saw that Haplo’s lips had turned up just a fraction more. Looking at him with _ fondness, _Alfred realized with a jolt. A bit like that moment on Abarrach, the last time Alfred had saved his life, and the last time he had called Alfred by his name.

Only also more than that, somehow, enough that Alfred knew his face must be bright red. He chuckled awkwardly. “That fever really did a number on you, didn’t it?”

Haplo ignored this, throwing his feet over the edge of the bed and standing up. “We should get out of here.”

“We?” Alfred echoed, standing too. 

He was concerned Haplo might be pushing himself too hard too soon, but for someone who only hours ago had been burning up, Haplo seemed remarkably steady. Alfred was probably the one more likely to fall over, between them, especially when Haplo replied: “You didn’t think I was going to let you stay behind, did you?”

Alfred took a moment to puzzle over that one. “You want me to break you out so you can take me to your Lord?” he guessed.

Haplo hummed. “Well, we do have to warn him about the dragon-snakes. Hopefully he’ll listen. After that…”

Alfred huffed, waving his hands impatiently. “After that, I’ll be locked up, or killed, or whatever it is he wants to do with me!”

Haplo turned to him, appearing a bit confused. “I wouldn’t let that happen.”

He was serious. Alfred could see that, and it made him freeze mid-bluster, staring in pure confusion at the Patryn he thought he had known. “What are you--?”

Steadily, firmly, Haplo took a step forward. “You’re sticking with me, Serpent Mage,” he said. And then, his voice lowered, and he said something impossible: “I need you, my friend.”

Alfred could do nothing more than gape at him, perfectly dumbstruck, searching the man frantically for any trace of mockery. “F-friend?”

Haplo was openly grinning now, of all things, either oblivious to Alfred’s shock or outright ignoring it. “Red’s a good color for you,” he said, an amused glint in his eyes as they flicked over him, up and down, and as Alfred was trying to process _ that _ Haplo’s expression turned into something more serious. “What else would I call you?” he asked patiently.

Alfred had no idea how he was supposed to react to any of this. “What on earth did that fever _ do _ to you?” 

Haplo's grin shifted into a smirk, and Alfred had almost managed to convince himself that the whole thing had been Haplo's idea of a joke when the man said, all too casually: “Well, as much fun as being locked together in the bedroom might be, we really should get out of here before they realize I’m awake, don't you think?”

Alfred was intimately familiar with how it felt to come very near fainting with shock. This was rather similar to that feeling, if it were immediately followed by the man who you thought hated you watching you with mild concern before taking another step closer. _Something is very wrong here, _he thought faintly.

“Come on, Alfred,” he said calmly. “Just get us out of here. Anywhere. I trust you.”

It took Alfred a few seconds to register anything other than complete confusion, and a few seconds longer to understand what Haplo was asking. “I-- I haven’t been anywhere in Chelestra except Surunan,” he said weakly.

Haplo considered this. “You think you could get somewhere that I’ve been?” he suggested.

Alfred frowned, more perplexed than he already had been, which was saying quite a lot, at this point. “It doesn’t work that way”

“Not usually,” Haplo said. “But I think it might, if it’s you and me.” He pet at the dog, which Alfred only now realized had appeared at his feet at some point.

He stared down at the animal, whose dark brown eyes met his with some measure of reassurance. He found himself nodding. “Right.” He shook his head, trying to wrap it around this sudden turn of events. “Well, no harm in trying.”

After only a brief second of dithering, Alfred took Haplo’s outstretched hands. Although Haplo’s magic was gone, Alfred could still complete the circle between them, and soon an image had flowed into his mind: a village at the edge of the Goodsea scattered with constructs similar to large tents, humans strolling along the paths.

The more Alfred saw, he reasoned, the higher the chances were that this would work. So Alfred immersed himself in the series of Haplo’s memories that centered around this village, many tinged with emotions like impatience, nostalgia, or regret. Alfred wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, or what Haplo received from him in return, so focused was he on the possibility that they were standing in that village.

And then, Alfred opened his eyes. “It worked,” he said, slightly incredulously.

Haplo surveyed the abandoned remains of the human village around them. Alfred knew there hadn’t been time to do anything but leave it all empty, and it was an odd sight to see, knowing now how lively it once had been. “Good.” He crossed his arms, looking satisfied. “Not that I’m surprised, of course,” he added, and started walking towards the shore of the Goodsea.

“Haplo, wait!” Alfred called, nearly stumbling over his feet as he caught up to him. “What are you planning, exactly?”

“I told you,” Haplo said, not missing a step, though he did reach out an arm to catch Alfred when he tripped on a particularly troublesome bit of nothing. “We have to go warn my Lord about the snakes.”

“You know perfectly well what he’ll do to me if I show up in the Nexus,” Alfred argued, growing frustrated quickly. “Haplo, are you quite sure you’re feeling okay? Because if not, you should wait until you recover.”

This actually seemed to give Haplo pause. His steps slowed until he had stopped completely. He turned to Alfred, and some of his confidence seemed to have drained away a bit. “I know,” he admitted. “He isn’t going to be happy to see you. But we have to at least try, don’t we?”

He was clearly troubled, and Alfred wished he could have reassured him. But from the little he knew of Haplo’s liege lord, he did not have high hopes for himself if he were to be found in the Nexus.

“He’s a reasonable man,” Haplo insisted. “I’m sure he’ll--” At the look Alfred was giving him, he stopped trying to convince either of them. “I’ll make sure you’re safe,” he tried. “I promise you that.”

Alfred shook his head. “Even if it means going against your lord?” he asked pointedly. Haplo’s lips twisted uncomfortably, but he didn’t rescind his statement. “Don’t make a promise you can’t keep,” Alfred scolded gently.

“I’m not,” Haplo snapped, a stubborn set to his jaw that caught Alfred off guard. He could practically see Haplo processing his own words, doubtful at first, and then redoubling, convinced of them.

It should have been comforting, to Alfred. Instead, he found it frightening. If he had been worried that there was something seriously wrong with Haplo before, he was now all but convinced. “Let me think,” he said, anxiously tapping the fingers of one hand against his other wrist. “I… I can’t go with you to the Nexus. And I really don’t think you should, either. Not yet, I mean.”

“Why not?” Haplo asked, obviously irritated. “We don’t exactly have the luxury of time, here.”

“I know, I know. It’s just… with you like this.” Haplo cocked his head, still apparently unsure what Alfred was talking about. “I’m really worried about that fever, honestly.”

“So you’ve said. But I feel fine.” Haplo raised his arms, as if to demonstrate. And it was true; he looked perfectly healthy. Even his runes were beginning to return, light blue and red marks appearing across his skin.

“I know,” Alfred said again, not sure how else to explain if Haplo couldn’t see for himself. “Just… call it an instinct.” An idea dawned on him. It never would have worked under normal circumstances, but then, this was hardly a normal circumstance. “You said you trusted me?”

The answer was immediate. “Of course I do.”

Once again, Alfred found himself more worried than reassured, but if it meant keeping Haplo out of trouble while he recovered, he would take it. “Then trust me on this.”

His eyes met Haplo’s. The Patryn pursed his lips, then, very reluctantly, he sighed. “Fine. But we shouldn’t stay here. Samah and the snakes will get to Death’s Gate before long, and then it will be difficult to leave at all.”

“Right,” Alfred nodded, privately relieved. “One of the other worlds, then.”

“Pryan,” Haplo suggested. “We’ll fly out in the middle of the air. No chance of us running into anyone until we make a decision.”

It sounded reasonable enough, Alfred agreed. “Oh, but your ship. Is it around here somewhere?” Alfred hadn’t seen it on Chelestra, as far as he could remember.

Haplo shook his head. “Death’s Gate dropped me in the middle of the Goodsea. The ship didn’t make it. I was working on an alternative, while I was living here. Should be right where I left it.”

So that was where Haplo had been trying to take them. This time, Alfred let himself be guided to the shoreline, only to find himself astounded by what he found there.

“You made this?” he cried. “On your own? And from scratch?”

Haplo positively preened, standing beneath the wing of a fully-functioning dragon ship, albeit much smaller than the _ Dragon Wing _had been. “I had to take apart a lot of the original to prepare it for Death’s Gate the first time, so I was fairly sure I could build another one. And the mensch were taking long enough to get ready to leave.” He looked up, admiring his work. “And this time, I made sure it’ll be able to get underwater without the runes failing.”

Sure enough, there were no visible runes on the exterior of the ship. Alfred guessed they were now on the inside. “It’s amazing."

Haplo smiled, obviously pleased. “It’ll do,” he agreed. “Let’s get going, then.”

* * *

The _ Dragon Wing II _\-- Haplo had seemed at a loss when asked about a name, so that was what Alfred called it in his head-- was much smaller than a full-sized dragonship, but that didn’t pose much of a problem. Mostly what it meant was that the ship had one room for the steering stone, one to sleep in, and another for food storage.

The first thing Alfred did as soon as they had both recovered from another successful jump through Death’s Gate was check that Haplo’s ship was flying smoothly in Pryan’s green-blue sky. He was surprised to see the vastness of the space around them, no end in sight. Haplo had been right; there was little chance of anything finding them, out here.

“Good,” he said. “We’ll be safe here, while you recover.”

The second thing Alfred did was take Haplo to his quarters, where a makeshift bed was constructed out of many layers of padding and blankets. Haplo was surprisingly receptive to Alfred’s efforts to get him to lay down again, following his instructions with little more than a roll of his eyes.

“Drink more,” Alfred insisted, offering the water he’d tracked down in the ship’s food storage area. Haplo sighed, but took a sip.

“I really do feel fine, Alfred,” he said. “I don’t know what you’re so worried about.”

Alfred took a deep breath in and out. “Haplo,” he said firmly. “Surely you can see that you’ve been behaving strangely since you woke up. You just called me by my name, for goodness’ sake!” He gesticulated wildly, punctuating the significance of this argument. “And earlier, you--” _ You were flirting with me. At least, I thought you were. _ But there was no way he could say that without sounding perfectly ridiculous, and so he cut himself off unhappily, unable to stop his face from growing warmer.

Haplo hummed, a hint of a smirk on his lips as he took another sip of water. “Yes?”

Alfred shook his head sharply, refusing to humor him. “You called me your friend,” he said, deciding that was the more pertinent issue, anyway.

Haplo was frowning slightly, now. “Aren’t you?” he asked, just as gentle, and his earnest expression was enough to make Alfred’s heart ache. “You’ve saved my life more than once, by now.”

“I…” Alfred started, not quite sure what to say. “That’s beside the point.”

Haplo sighed. He laid back, sitting up against the wall of the ship, and crossed his arms. “Something does feel different,” he said after some consideration. “I don’t know… but I don’t think it’s bad.” His eyes snapped back to Alfred, clearly decided on this point. “I was so… angry, before. Confused. And I’m not, now.” He shrugged. “It shouldn’t be this easy, I don’t think, but...” he started, brow furrowed. Then he looked up, a rare vulnerability in his eyes as they met Alfred’s. “I don’t want to go back, just yet.”

And just like that, Alfred was overcome with pity. How much he had been through, how much he must have been struggling with it, for this to have happened. “Haplo…”

“Do you want me to go back to that?” Haplo asked, his voice soft, yet intent.

“Do I-- what?” Alfred wasn’t sure what to make of the question. “I… Of course I want you to be happy,” he said in a rush, and then bit his lip, because he wasn’t supposed to say things like that, even if they were true. But Haplo didn’t bat an eye, only nodded slightly, prompting him to go on. “I’m just... not sure.”

Slowly, Haplo leaned forward until his face was hardly a foot away from Alfred’s. “Not sure of what?” he asked.

Alfred’s breath caught, but he didn’t move back, surprisingly. Perhaps he was too taken aback to think of it. Perhaps he merely didn’t want to. In either case, he remained there, his heart beating wildly in his chest, some part of him knowing that whatever decision he made in the next few seconds, he would not be able to go back from it.

“I don’t want you to hate me,” he whispered. “When you come to your senses. I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret.” 

And incredibly, unbelievably, Haplo smiled a quiet smile. He reached forward, taking Alfred’s hand gently in his own. “I won’t,” he said. Easy as that, as if that one action, those two words, weren’t enough to shake Alfred to his absolute core, crumpling him from the inside out.

Alfred was surprised, yes, but it wasn’t just that. Events in Chelestra had taken a toll on him, as well. Exhaustion and sadness lingered from the battle with the dragon-snakes and his confrontation with Samah.

And mixed in with all that, deep beneath the surface, so far beneath Alfred hadn’t even realized it was there, shimmered a terrible _ want. _Not for Haplo, exactly: this want was a desperate, drowning thing, a piece of him longing for a single moment free from loneliness, from guilt. And there was Haplo, so sure of himself, always certain in a way that Alfred never had been.

And so he didn’t pull away when Haplo leaned that last bit closer, pressing their lips together. He let Haplo do it, might even have pressed back, himself-- he wasn’t entirely sure. All he knew was that it was a comfort, that closeness, and one we wanted nothing more than to lose himself in.

But he couldn’t. Not entirely. Not like this.

He pulled back, immediately feeling the loss. “You shouldn’t,” he said. Haplo frowned, looking like he might protest. “Not now, anyway,” Alfred added, and was yet again surprised to see that this did seem to mollify Haplo a bit.

He still didn’t look terribly pleased, but in the end he sighed, leaning back against the wall as he had been. “Fine. Whatever you say.”

Which was still so strange coming from Haplo of all people that it made Alfred smile, just a bit. “I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s not that I don’t…” He fiddled with his sleeve cuffs, unable to bring himself to finish the sentence.

“Yeah, I know,” Haplo said simply. Somehow that made Alfred flush deeper. “Maybe I will rest, then,” Haplo huffed, suddenly irritated. “Unconscious for all that time, and I’m still tired.”

“You are sick,” Alfred said sensibly, ignoring for the moment how his head was spinning, because _had that really just happened?_ “And you were badly injured, before that. Of course you need rest.”

Haplo scoffed at this, less than impressed, but moved to properly lay back in his bed. “You’ll stay?” he asked, just as Alfred had been about to stand up and leave him to get to sleep.

Alfred paused, looked down at Haplo. He was still feverish; he still looked it, and his skin… his skin had been too warm, as well. He was looking up at Alfred expectantly, and so Alfred said, “Of course,” and stayed in his seated position by the pile of blankets. “Of course,” he said again, and then, because it suddenly seemed like he should: “I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing,” Haplo said gently, and shifted in the bed until he was comfortable. He closed his eyes.

Alfred sat beside him, watching over him. He had seen Haplo sleep in Abarrach, and thought to himself how Haplo did not relax fully, even in sleep. He looked much more tired now than he had then, but his face looked more calm, now, or so it seemed to him. The observation comforted him, at least.

Impulsively, almost against his own will, Alfred reached out, took Haplo’s hand in his own as he lay there. Haplo’s eyes opened, meeting his again. The Patryn smiled again, and Alfred couldn’t resist pulling it nearer, pressing his lips to it.

“Sleep well, Haplo,” he said, keeping his hand held between his. Selfish, but Haplo closed his eyes again, his expression now perfectly relaxed.

* * *

Haplo’s eyes opened. He was in his ship, the dog sitting at the foot of his bed-- when had that happened? He struggled to remember the events of the past few days; Chelestra was at the forefront of his mind, with images of sandy beaches, dragon-snakes, Samah and the mensch. And Alfred. Naturally.

Slowly, he remembered waking up with him on Surunan. From here, his memories were more difficult to collect. He had suffered some kind of illness, and then they had left. That was it. He had told Alfred to bring him to the ship, and they had left Chelestra.

He frowned. They had gone to Pryan, but he couldn’t remember why, exactly. It was as he struggled to recall that he heard the sound of soft breathing to his side.

Something inside him twisted painfully as he recognized it. Haplo squeezed his eyes shut, took a breath, and then, with great effort, forced himself to glance over the bedding to see the figure sleeping peacefully on the floor beside him.

Alfred looked exhausted, Haplo noted distantly. Well, that made sense. He wasn’t sure how long it had been since Surunan, but it wasn’t likely that Alfred had gotten much more sleep than he himself had, since then. He was sprawled on the floor. Haplo vaguely remembered that he had been sitting on the floor, leaning against the pile of blankets and other cushioning that served as Haplo’s bed. He must have slipped off of it at some point.

That line of thinking led Haplo to other memories, though. Images coming back to him like something from a half-remembered dream, making less sense the longer he thought about it. It was disconcerting, to say the least, and Haplo wanted desperately to write it off as a fever dream. The second-best option would be to blame Alfred for all of it, and that was tempting, too, because he had obviously been far from his right mind and Alfred had_ known _ that.

And maybe he could have been satisfied with that, except that he was still remembering things. He remembered his own longing, his own disappointment when Alfred had pulled away, and both frightened him, but not nearly as much as everything else he had felt and thought in those moments, things he remembered perfectly and wished with all his might that he didn’t.

In times of stress, Haplo’s instincts could usually be depended on to see him through, and so now, Haplo decided to follow them. Ignoring every thought in his mind pertaining to the last few days, he stood up and made his way to the ship’s controls, leaving Alfred asleep. Quickly, he took control of the steering stone and began the mind-consuming task of turning the ship around, monitoring various instruments until he could be sure they were heading back towards Death’s Gate once again.

There, that was done with. He had to return to the Nexus as soon as possible; his illness had cost him too much time already. That left him with one more major problem to consider, and from the sound of shuffling footsteps behind him, he had just woken up.

“Haplo?” Alfred’s voice called, tentative.

The dog was awake now, too, and padded over to Haplo for a good morning pat on the head. Haplo scratched the dog’s ears, ignoring Alfred entirely.

“Are you--” Alfred hesitated, and Haplo heard his footsteps falter, as well. “Are you feeling better?”

Haplo thought about ignoring him again, ultimately decided it would be a bit too undignified. “Yeah,” he grunted.

“Good, good,” Alfred said quickly, stumbling a bit over the words in his haste to get them out. From there, awkward silence fell, as Haplo very determinedly kept his back to Alfred, focusing on the viewing window at the front of the ship perhaps a bit more intently than the miles of empty sky warranted.

Alfred coughed. “Where are we going?” he asked, his voice still with that uncertain edge. “I-- I felt the ship change direction.”

Haplo’s fingers pressed against the smooth surface of the steering stone. “I’m going to the Nexus,” he said shortly. “I’m dropping _ you _off in Chelestra, first,” he added, the decision made on impulse precisely as the words were already coming out of his mouth.

“I thought you were taking me to the Nexus,” Alfred said mildly, and of course Haplo understood the question he was trying to ask.

“Yeah, well, I want you the hell off my ship.”

And there, that was that dealt with, Haplo thought to himself. Taking Alfred to the Nexus was obviously not going to happen; he would be all but useless to Haplo and Xar at this point, Haplo was fairly certain. And then there was the fact that Haplo had promised Alfred’s safety. He had been incapacitated and irrational at the time, certainly, but he had promised it nonetheless. So: back to Chelestra with him, and good riddance.

To his complete surprise, his pronouncement was met with a very tiny, very awkward-sounding chuckle. “It’s good to have you back,” Alfred said, cutting himself off as he finished. Haplo could imagine him flushing and clamping his mouth shut as he realized that certain topics were better left avoided. The room immediately went quiet again. “I’m--”  
“If you’re about to say that you’re sorry, I swear I will drop-kick you off this ship right now.”

“R-right,” Alfred agreed.

A few minutes passed in silence. Alfred didn’t seem to know quite what to do with himself. Haplo heard him shuffle nearer, just enough to see past Haplo to the sky outside the ship. It gave Haplo a chance to cast a subtle glance to the side to see Alfred’s expression. While the way the Sartan’s hands were clasped in front of him might have hinted at anxiety beneath the surface, he looked more tired and pondering than anything, staring outside.

Alfred glanced towards him. Haplo shifted his gaze back to the window, but not quick enough to avoid catching Alfred’s eye for a split second. In any case, the brief contact emboldened Alfred to speak again. “I haven’t been to Pryan, yet.”

“You won’t see much of it from here,” Haplo said with a shrug. “It took days to get to the surface, last time.”

Alfred nodded, taking another step towards the window. “I knew it was big, but--” he shook his head, turning to look back at Haplo with a nervous quirk to his lip. “It’s hard to imagine. What was it like?”

Haplo considered. “Hot and sticky all the time,” he said, frowning at the memory. “Huge plants growing absolutely everywhere. The ground is covered in it, so the mensch lived in the branches.” Oh, the mensch. The mere memory of them was enough to give him a headache. “The mensch there bicker even more than usual,” he said, in what he felt was a deep understatement.

Haplo was surprised to notice Alfred’s lips had curved into the beginnings of a smile. “That bad, hm?”

The question made him snort. “Two of them tried to convince me to officiate their marriage, of all things. Like that would stop the rest of them from killing each other.”

Alfred looked surprised at that, opened his mouth as if to say something, and Haplo had to speak quickly to cut him off, wondering why he’d brought it up at all. “It was a massive headache, all of it,” he complained. “Those kids on Chelestra are half their age with twice their sense.”

At that, Alfred was smiling again, not at Haplo, but back towards what limited view they had of the Pryan sky. “Still,” he said lightly. “I wish I’d had a chance to see it.” He pursed his lips, considering something. “Who were those mensch on Chelestra, exactly?”

Their faces came to mind immediately: a human, a dwarf, and an elf standing together in their sink ship, making plans for what to do when they landed, joking and teasing each other. And he heard himself speaking without having made the conscious decision to do so. “I found them sailing off to their deaths, if you can believe it. Swam right into them. Princesses from each of the kingdoms. And Devon, I suppose.”

Alfred considered this. “Sailing to their deaths…” he repeated. “The snakes?”

“Yeah,” Haplo said shortly, a painful pang in his chest as he remembered them running on the beach, remembered how the dragon-snakes had toyed with them, Alake standing bravely, closing her eyes for the last time.

“I’m sorry,” Alfred said, and Haplo blinked away the wetness in his eyes. Alfred looked stricken, eyes full of sorrow. “I’m sorry about--”

Haplo stopped him with a look, then swallowed, looked down at the stone beneath his hands. “None of us would have made it out if you hadn’t stepped in.” It was a difficult admission, but not as difficult as the memory of Alake lying in his arms.

Alfred shook his head. “But I didn’t,” he whispered, voice filled with regret.

“Are you sure?” Haplo challenged, grateful to be distracted. “Grundle isn’t the type to make something like that up.”

“I wish I had." Alfred wrung his hands together. “But I fainted. I’m sure of it.”

Haplo hummed, unconvinced.

“How far off is Death’s Gate?” Alfred asked, suddenly.

An obvious attempt to change the subject, but Haplo would allow it. “I slept for nearly a full day, I think, and the ship was moving that whole time. It’ll be a while.”

Alfred nodded slowly, turning away again. For a moment, Haplo thought the conversation was over, but as he watched, Alfred’s shoulders fell. He heard him sigh a moment later. “Maybe you shouldn’t take me back to Chelestra,” he murmured, so low that Haplo had to take another step nearer to hear him properly. “I’ve been thinking, you know, and maybe it’s better if I just… go back to Arianus, after all this.”

Once, Haplo would have turned such a statement over in his head, wondering what the Sartan hoped to gain from returning to Arianus, searching for the trick. By now, he knew Alfred well enough to know that Alfred wasn’t faking his despondence. But it still surprised him.

“You really think they’d send you to the Labyrinth?”

“They’ve done it before, to Sartan,” Alfred said, sounding distant. “Orla confirmed it herself. I don’t think they would hesitate to do so again.”

Haplo thought of Samah and privately agreed. Still, the mere idea of Sartan in the Labyrinth bothered him in ways he couldn’t fully explain.

“Right, Orla,” he said, instead. “No wonder Samah doesn’t like you.” He spoke with a teasing lilt to his voice that immediately fell flat. 

“She was the only one who did,” Alfred said sadly. He pursed his lips, shifting back and forth on his feet. His eyes flicked towards Haplo and then away again. “I…” he started, and then stopped, as if reconsidering. “It’s funny, really,” he continued after a moment’s pause. Once again, his eyes darted towards Haplo and back to his shoes. “All this time I’ve spent, thinking I was the last Sartan left. Now I know that I’m not, but I still…” 

He trailed off, gesturing vaguely. Haplo thought of the way Samah had spoken to him. He thought of how out of place Alfred had looked with his mensch chamberlain’s outfit in a sea of white robes.

“It’s just strange,” Alfred finally said. “To be surrounded by them, and still feel…”

“Alone,” Haplo finished automatically, and then looked away, scolding himself. Why had he said that? Why were they still talking at all?

The same thing had happened on Abarrach, not too long ago. Again and again, he’d found himself drawn into conversation against his better judgement. What was it about Alfred, of all people?

The dog, sensing his frustration, moved nearer to him, nosing at his hand as if to reassure him.

Alfred noticed the movement, half-smiling as he watched. “I’m glad the dog found you again.”

Haplo pet the dog once on the head and gave Alfred a sharp look. “What does that have to do with anything?”

Alfred shrugged, going back to fiddling with the lace of his cuffs. “I hated to think of you without him,” he said simply. He stepped forward, now standing in front of Haplo and the steering stone, within arm’s reach of the front window.

Haplo watched him from behind, grappling with the implications of that statement. The mere idea of Alfred _ thinking about him, _much less considering whether the dog was with him, was bewildering enough on its own. But there was no reason that should be: of course Alfred must have thought about him, the dog had been with him in Surunan for some time, he must have wondered about his master.

Yes, that made sense. Enough of an explanation to ignore any thoughts whispering about Alfred’s determination to return Haplo’s dog, or his hands steady as he watched over Haplo in his sickness, or the exact look in his eye the second before Haplo had leaned forward and--

Haplo clamped down hard on that thought, unable to bear it.

“What will you do in Arianus, then?” he asked, just to give him something else to think about besides the uncomfortable twist in his stomach.

Alfred sighed. “I don’t know. I don’t suppose I can go back to the palace, can I?” He shook his head, pensive. “Maybe I could… oh, I don’t know. Maybe I’ll just go back to…” he trailed off, his voice coming slower and softer until Haplo had to step closer to hear.

“To that place.”

Alfred sighed, folding his arms in on himself as if he were trying to make himself as small as possible. From his new position, Haplo could see Alfred’s face again; he looked worn out, even more so than usual. “I’ve been to each of the four mensch worlds, now, and I’ve seen glimpses of the others.” He frowned, looking like he wanted to stop talking, but the words seemed to burst from him anyway. “I’m beginning to think there’s no place anywhere in this world for me, except there. Maybe it would have been better if I had never left.”

Haplo’s jaw clenched. It wasn’t just the memory of that mausoleum, nor the idea of someone living there for decades. That wasn’t what Alfred meant, anyway. No, what Alfred was talking about was something Haplo recognized, something he had seen in Squatter village after Squatter village, something he had seen in a woman’s eyes as she stumbled into his cave without a care for her own life, anymore. Something he himself had felt, bleeding out on the plain before the Final Gate.

Maybe it was that recognition that made Haplo shake his head, unable to articulate why else Alfred’s statement would be so instinctively wrong to him. “It wouldn’t have been,” he said, suddenly certain of it.

Alfred’s eyes widened slightly in obvious surprise. Then he shook his head slightly, fiddling with his sleeves again. “I don’t really know what else to do, anymore,” he confessed.

Haplo had nothing to say to that. That was a feeling that he, too, recognized. More and more, each time he remembered what would be waiting for him when he reached Death’s Gate. There was no way the dragon-snakes hadn’t already reached the Nexus by now. What stories must they be telling Xar, what explanations must they be giving for why his chosen representative had not returned? Not that the truth would be much better, he thought reluctantly, looking at Alfred beside him.

“There might be something you could help me with,” Haplo said suddenly.

Alfred turned towards him, noticing his sudden shift in urgency with marked confusion. “Really?”

Haplo opened his mouth, thinking of the plans that had been twisting and turning in his mind recently: mostly unformed, but always there in the dreams and memories he’d thought he’d set aside, the pull towards them growing stronger by the day.

“Nevermind,” he said hastily, shaking his head. He hadn’t let himself consider them too seriously. There was a good reason for that. “It’s ridiculous. Don’t know what I was thinking.”

Alfred’s eyes were fixed on him now, studying him calmly. “What were you thinking?” he asked, very gently.

And somehow, it was enough. “There’s a child,” Haplo heard himself say. He hesitated. He had never said it out loud like that, and the pain of doing so was greater than he had imagined. “I have a child.”

Alfred swallowed. “I didn’t know that.”

“Yeah. Well,” Haplo said, looking at his hands and at the window and anywhere but in Alfred’s direction. “I’ve never met him. Or her. I’m not even sure if they’re…”

He could not finish. His eyes already stung at what he had almost admitted, what he had known to be true for years and discarded, because it had been easier, because he had been a coward, when it came right down to it. Too much of a coward to chase after her, still too much of a coward now to face what he had done.

“Haplo…” Alfred took another faltering step closer, close enough to put a hand on his arm, an uncertain gesture of comfort that Haplo did not push away from.

“They’re in the Labyrinth, somewhere,” he forced himself to say, his throat still tight. “And I…”

“You want to go back,” Alfred realized, finishing for him.

It was ridiculous, Haplo wanted to say again. He opened his mouth to do so, then closed it. He couldn’t deny it, now that he had spoken the words he had been holding back for so many years.

“And you…” Alfred paused here, pursing his lips. “You want me to help you?” The question was delicate, cautious, as if Alfred hardly dared to ask.

Haplo shrugged. “You’d last about two seconds, in there,” he said flippantly. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Alfred nodded, understanding. “You’re probably right,” he allowed. “Still,” he continued thoughtfully, “I would be glad to help you, if you wanted me.” Haplo’s gaze snapped to him again, probing, and immediately Alfred blushed, pulling his hand away from Haplo’s arm like it had burned him, placing it on the rail in front of him that separated them from the front window. “I mean,” he said, scrambling, “I just. It would be better than… than going back to Arianus.”

Haplo didn’t need help translating that. _ Better than dying alone. _

“We still have a few hours before you have to decide,” Haplo said.

Alfred turned his head sharply. “You mean you’re really asking?”

Haplo snorted. “I don’t know,” he said haphazardly, suddenly a bit amused by how off-the-rails the whole conversation had gotten. He sobered up quickly, however. “There’s still Xar… and the snakes.”

“You were going to warn him,” Alfred recalled. He bit his lip. “Do you really think he’ll listen to you?”

It might have been an accusation, but coming from Alfred it sounded like an honest question. So Haplo answered honestly. “I don’t know,” he admitted, and this, too, cost him something to say aloud, unable to be ignored now that it was out of his skull. “He used to trust me completely,” he added, though he was not even sure of that anymore, when he truly thought about it.

“Sorry,” Alfred said, because of course he did.

“It’s not like it’s your fault.”

Alfred fixed him with a knowing look. “Isn’t it, though?”

Haplo took a breath. “If it is, then it’s mine just as much.” It was another dangerous thing to say, especially when looking directly into Alfred’s eyes; something inside Haplo wrenched, seeing his concern, how near he was still standing. It should have been strange, this whole conversation should have been strange, none of this should have happened at all, and yet. And yet something about all of it felt exactly as it should be.

Alfred must have seen something change in his expression, because he leaned forward slightly, looking concerned again. “Are you alright?” 

Haplo honestly wasn’t sure. He could only imagine what Xar would say if he knew what Haplo was thinking, this very second. “I’m not feverish, anymore,” he said slowly.

Alfred’s brow furrowed in confusion. “No, I don’t think so,” he agreed. “You seem much more like your usual self. Do you feel sick?”

“Not really,” Haplo said, because he didn’t. He felt more like he had approached a steep ledge, no landing in sight. “I wasn’t thinking normally, before,” he struggled to find the words to explain. “Everything seemed clearer than it was,” he decided. “When you put it like that, it was actually kind of nice,” he said with a bitter chuckle.

Alfred studied him a moment longer, then nodded slowly. “You’ve been through a lot, lately. Anger and confusion, you said.” Alfred paused there, perhaps worried that Haplo wouldn’t want him to bring up that conversation. “I think your mind might have been trying to ease the pain of it, somewhat.”

Haplo considered it. He could vaguely remember how it had felt: not quite carefree, but certainly confident. More confident than he had felt in quite some time. “Maybe.”

“You feel better now, though, right?” Alfred said, not quite fretting. It tugged a sardonic half-smile to Haplo’s lips.

“I guess so. Everything’s back to being a mess again, if that’s what you mean.” Haplo leaned forward against the railing, took a breath, and turned to look back up at Alfred. “Why?” he asked with a wry smile. “Were you worried about me?”

Alfred took a sharp inhale, fingers tightening around the rail he was still holding onto. “Of course I was,” he spoke, sounding rushed. He looked stricken, worried he was overstepping his bounds, but unable to lie. “I…” He looked away, knuckles turning white.

“Alfred?” Haplo prompted after a second’s silence.

Alfred visibly cringed, his face beginning to redden again. “I know you said not to apologize,” he said quickly, his eyes clamped shut. “I just… I really didn’t mean to… I know I shouldn’t have…”

Haplo knew he would have to rescue Alfred from his own flailing apology. “It’s okay, Alfred,” he said. “Really.”

And they were looking at each other again, Alfred’s wide blue eyes fixed with his own, and Haplo didn’t look away. He remembered the exact expression on Alfred’s face, open and full of longing, the one that had prompted Haplo to lean closer, and then the pleasure in his gut as Alfred had pressed closer to him. Alfred had pulled away, not because he’d wanted to, but because Haplo hadn’t been himself, and Alfred, being Alfred, had cared.

Haplo was himself, again. There were no excuses to duck behind, this time, when he reached out and placed his hand over Alfred’s.

Alfred froze, and for a split second Haplo thought he would pull away, or maybe just ask once again if he was feeling alright. He didn’t. For a few seconds, he didn’t do anything at all, just long enough to worry Haplo. And then, with a slowness that was nearly agonizing, Alfred turned his hand over beneath Haplo’s to take it, brushing his fingers gently across the skin, sending a shiver up Haplo’s arm. Such a small touch shouldn’t have had his heart pounding so heavily.

“Haplo?”

“You wanted to, though,” Haplo said. Not accusing, just matter-of-fact.

Alfred swallowed again, looking very, very nervous. “I… I’m not sure, exactly. I mean, well. You didn’t force me into anything, if that’s what you mean,” he babbled. “I just-- you--”

Haplo tightened his hold on Alfred’s hand. “You can just say yes, you know.”

Alfred’s mouth clamped shut, his eyes fixed on their clasped hands. After what felt like an age, and in a voice so soft Haplo would not have heard it if he were not listening so intently for it, he said a single word.

For the second time, Haplo leaned forward to kiss Alfred, and for the second time, Alfred kissed him back. This time, he reached out, still timid, but touching back, his hands brushing gently against Haplo’s waist. He didn’t pull away, this time, but accepted every touch, following where Haplo led him.

That feeling of simplicity returned, enough that Haplo suddenly wondered if he actually might be sick, again. He drew back, breaking the kiss, uncertainty creeping back, at least until he saw Alfred’s flushed face, his mouth still slightly open. He looked a bit dazed, and Haplo had to kiss him again, more sure of himself, now. Alfred sighed, happy and sweet, and immediately Haplo set out to coax more of those sounds from him. It was, he was pleased to discover, a pursuit at which he proved to be quite successful. 

All the while, Alfred’s hands slid up his waist, over his arms, across his chest, overwhelmingly gentle with every caress, allowing himself to be nudged back towards the hallway.

* * *

Haplo woke up much later to the sound of a steady heartbeat and the feeling of fingers sifting through his hair. He kept his eyes closed for a few moments, reluctant to let himself fully awaken just yet, but it seemed that not long had passed before Alfred shifted away, just slightly, just enough to make Haplo open his eyes.

It didn’t seem that he had fallen asleep, the way Haplo had; his eyes were awake and clear as they looked down at Haplo. Haplo said nothing, only met Alfred’s thoughtful gaze. He really had never seen such striking blue eyes.

Within a few seconds, Alfred blinked and averted his gaze, his face a shade darker, but he didn’t move away, which Haplo was glad for. Instead, his gaze flickered nervously back to Haplo. “I really hope you aren’t about to threaten to drop-kick me out of your ship,” he said quietly.

Haplo blinked. Alfred was smiling a little half-smile that didn’t quite cover his concern. And then he snorted. “I guess I deserve that.”

Alfred’s eyes widened, a hesitant smile ghosting across his face. Carefully, as if worried Haplo would change his mind, he continued running his fingers through Haplo’s hair. Silence washed over them, comfortable at first, but turning heavier with each moment.

Finally, Alfred spoke again, his whisper voicing exactly what Haplo himself was thinking. “What are we going to do now?” 

Haplo knew exactly what Alfred was talking about, because he was thinking about the exact same things: Xar, Samah, the snakes, the Labyrinth, and Haplo’s child. So much to worry about, and so little either of them could do against it.

The simplest thing, Haplo thought wildly, would be for him to return to Xar alone. It wasn’t too late; he could still kick Alfred out. Xar might not even object; surely he could justify what he had done. A seduction to bring the enemy into Xar’s hands.

But one look at Alfred and Haplo knew he could never do it. He hadn’t been able to betray Alfred back on Abarrach. There was no way he would ever be able to do it, now.

Alfred must know it, too. _ We, _ he’d said. _ What are we going to do now? _

Haplo liked the sound of that “we.”

And why shouldn’t he? Everything had gone wrong. Whatever clarity he’d once had had been lost, and perhaps nothing ever would be that simple again. Nothing but this: the image of a child, lost in the Labyrinth.

Alfred had already been heading into the Labyrinth anyway, hadn’t he?

**Author's Note:**

> And so they went directly to the Labyrinth and everyone died because they didn't go fix the Kicksey-Winsey first. The end. :)
> 
> Just kidding, I assume they head for the Labyrinth, Zifnab convinces them to go back to Arianus like he does in the book, and that gets taken care of that way, in between both of them trying to figure out What Are We Now. And then Marit comes after them and there's a whirlwind adventure to save everybody from Xar and the snakes, and Alfred assumes Haplo's gonna go with Marit in the end, but then they all actually choose each other because they always do, and they all live happily ever after.
> 
> ...No I cannot physically write anything canon divergent without worrying about how things will go after it.
> 
> Anyway considering how much time I spent on this (seriously, it was NOT supposed to get this long) I'm not sure how much I actually LIKE it, but you know what, this is a small fandom and trash is better than nothing, so better post it either way. 
> 
> Thanks for reading haha. You can find me at [deathgatesideblog.tumblr.com!](deathgatesideblog.tumblr.com)


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